What Can I Say?
by sanityfair1
Summary: Buffy doesn't think her problem with authority figures is necessarily a problem. Is there chance she'll see the error of her ways, or will she just try to take control of the situation once again?


Buffy sat in the waiting room thumbing through the latest copy of "Mental Floss." She was reading an article entitled, "Really Successful People Who Never Existed," when the receptionist loudly informed her that Mr. Giles would now see her. She stood and smoothed her James Perse tank dress, collected her bag, and strode toward door, her black Prada D'Orsay pumps clicking on the hardwoods. Buffy had purchased them at a sample sale in New York. She had a keen eye when it came to shopping, and Buffy loved nice things, but not the price tags that came with them.

She took a deep breath and turned the knob, stepped in and closed the door, pushing the lock in place. Inside, the walls were the color of an Anjou pear, warm and inviting. Sunlight dappled the walls with bits of light through the wide plantation blinds. A large Turkish rug in muted reds, greens, and yellows covered the darkly stained hardwoods. At the far end of the room a man, presumably Mr. Giles, sat at a beautiful golden teak Danish Modern desk. He had his head down, engrossed in something on the screen of his laptop.

Buffy walked to front of the desk and asked with a slight edge in her tone, "Excuse me. Am I interrupting something? "

She did have an appointment after all, and yet he carried on with his work as though he wasn't expecting her.

The man looked up as if startled, and Buffy swallowed hard. He was the most handsome man she'd ever seen. Perfectly tousled, sandy brown curls framed creamy skin, stretched over an angular face with spectacular cheekbones and a lush, full mouth. The sexiest part was his blue eyes. Even though wire-rimmed glasses covered them, she could see their beauty; the color was so exquisite, she couldn't think of anything to compare it to.

He jumped up from his Eames leather chair and extended his hand. "My apologies, Miss—um—" he glanced down at his desk, "—Summers. I was just wrapping up my notes and didn't hear you come in. I'm William Giles."

Buffy accepted his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Giles."

"Oh, no, please call me William."

"Only if you'll call me Buffy."

Mr. Giles—William—nodded. "Yes, I think I can do that."

He walked around the desk and ushered her to a seating area with a designer gunmetal gray loveseat and chair, also in the Danish Modern style. He motioned for her to sit on the loveseat as he sat in a chair to the side.

"Thanks." Buffy sat, taking note of the large canvas of abstract impressionism on the wall behind him, as well as a few smaller framed pen-and-ink drawings around the room. "I see you're a great fan of Danish Modern furniture. The clean lines are very nice. I like your artwork as well. Do you know any of the artists personally?"

William raised an eyebrow and wrote something down on the notepad in his hands. "No, I don't. I don't think you're here to discuss my tastes in furnishings or art, Miss Sum—uh, Buffy, so why don't you tell me why you _are_ here?"

"Well, aren't we testy this morning, _Mr. Giles_? I was just trying to be polite. Something you seem to have a problem with. You couldn't even be bothered to address me when came in the room, and on top of that, you forgot my name. Perhaps, I've made a mistake and need to take this matter to someone else. In fact, I think I'll do just that."

Buffy made to stand, but he reached out and grabbed her wrist. Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off.

"I'm terribly sorry," William said, letting go of her wrist. "I've been a right sod. You've every reason to walk out the door, but I hope you'll give me another chance and accept my second apology in under ten minutes." His eyes were kind and earnest as he gave her a hopeful smile.

Buffy smiled back, eyeing him up as she considered his apology. Oh, she was going to stay all right, but she had her own agenda, and William was in for a surprise.

"All right, I'll stay, but no more rudeness. Understood?" Her eyes narrowed and she looked at him pointedly.

William tilted his head to the side with a slight nod. "Yes, if you'll allow me the same courtesy."

"Oh, I'll be as sweet as pie," she said, inching closer to his chair.

"All right then, Buffy, why don't you me what brings you here today? Have you ever been to therapy before?" He looked at her with his pen poised over his notepad.

"No, I've never been to therapy before, and I'm not really sure why I'm here now, actually. Except, I've been getting into a lot of arguments lately, and I don't understand why."

William jotted something down on his paper. "What kind of arguments and with whom?"

Buffy tipped her gaze toward the ceiling as she thought what incident to talk about. "Well, I was on my way home from the salon the other day, and a policeman pulled me over for reckless driving. I was _not_ driving recklessly, but he wouldn't listen. He didn't even see me. Someone called in and reported me, so I argued with him, and he gave me a ticket. The worst part was, he said he wouldn't have if I hadn't been so rude."

"How did that make you feel?" William asked.

"Angry," Buffy answered, looking back at William. "I had a right to defend myself. What was I supposed to do? Sit there and take someone falsely accusing me of something?"

"Well, maybe you could have been more patient with him. He was only doing his job. Do you often have problems with authority figures?" He scribbled something down on his pad and turned his attention back to her.

"Whose side are you on?" Buffy asked, glaring at the notepad and its small, unreadable notes. "As far as authority figures go, they're usually just drunk on the little bit of power they have."

William set down his pen and looked her in the eye. "I'm not on anyone's side. I'm an impartial judge. I find your beliefs on authority figures to be a bit skewed. Have you had problems with them in the past? Say, when you were younger?"

Buffy felt a tingle of delight go down her spine, and she bit her lip, giving him a timid look. This was her in. He wasn't going to know what hit him.

"Well," she said, drawing out the word dramatically. "There might have been a little incident in high school." She looked down and tried her best to feign embarrassment. "I was pretty sheltered. I went to a very small school and didn't date much. My family was very religious, but I was curious. One day, I heard some boys talking about sex."

Buffy leaned closer to William, giving him a bird's eye view of her assets, thanks to her lavender lace push-up bra.

"I heard them use the word 'fuck,' and I'd never heard that word before. I had to look it up. I know. I'm dirty, but what can I say?" She brushed his calf with the pointed toe of her pump.

William's Adam's apple bobbed, and he cleared his throat a couple of times before he spoke. "It's only natural that you would be curious, but I don't see what this story has to do with authority figures."

Buffy put her hand on his thigh and squeezed. "It does, and if you'll just be patient, I'm getting there. So I went to the school library to look it up in the _Oxford English Dictionary_, but Mrs. Lyles, the nasty school librarian, caught me and gave me detention."

Buffy's hand had moved higher as she spoke, rubbing concentric circles dangerously close to the ever-growing bulge in his jeans.

William eyes were heavy-lidded and his voice was husky. "That's a terrible shame, pet. After all, you were only trying to further your education. The bint had no right to do that to you. I hope you sneaked in and rearranged her card catalog," he said taking her hand and pulling her into his lap.

She nibbled his ear and whispered, "Oh, I did, and I hid all the library cards for the checked-out books and threw the overdue ones away."

William growled low in his throat. "My, my, what naughty little minx you were and are." He teased a nipple though her dress as he nuzzled her neck.

"Mmm, I'm not being naughty now. I'm being perfectly nice. You're an authority figure, and I'm certainly treating you kindly," she said as she began to unbutton his shirt.

The knot of pleasure tightened in Buffy's belly, and moisture flooded her already sodden panties, as William's hand inched its way up under her dress.

"Yes, you are, but you mustn't tell anyone about this. This has to our little secret. I could get into lots of trouble for this sort thing," he said, rubbing her toned stomach, just above her panty-line.

"William, do you give all your clients this much help, or am I the only one?"

His top shirt was off now, and she was tugging his undershirt out of his pants.

He kissed her then, devouring her mouth with the vigor of a sinner seeking forgiveness.

"No, Buffy, only you," he said when they pulled apart. "I've never found myself in this sort of ethical dilemma, but God this feels good."

Buffy stood and pulled her dress over her head, leaving her in lavender lace lingerie and black Prada pumps.

"You're right, it feels good. Good and dirty." She gave him a smirk before bending down to unstrap her shoes.

"No, lose the bra and panties, but the shoes stay on." He stood and unbuckled his belt, having already dispensed with his shoes and socks.

Buffy held her hands out in surrender. "Whatever you say, you're the authority figure, and I'm here to do as I'm told."

He was now completely naked, and she looked at him unabashedly. His body, like his face, was gorgeous, lean, and muscular. His cock stood proud against his abdomen, long, thick, and hard.

He moved toward her gracefully. "That's good to know. I like that you're so willing to listen." He cupped a breast and twisted the nipple.

"Ow! That hurt. Maybe, I don't want to take orders from you anymore. Maybe, you should take orders from me." She grabbed his cock and gave it a squeeze.

He groaned with pleasure. "Ah, ah, ah. You're the one who needs the lesson about authority figures."

She smiled as began to stroke him. "And you're the one who needs a lesson in not getting involved with their clients."

She arched a brow as he gasped, and suddenly found herself being lifted into his arms with no choice but to wrap her legs around his waist.

"Yes, yes, I know," he said, walking her toward the desk and nipping at her neck. "We're both in the wrong here, so let's do the only thing we can do at this point."

"Oh, and what might that be, pray tell?" She widened her eyes with faux innocence as she played with the curls at the nape of his neck.

"Indulge in our iniquities together. I think it's the only way." He sat her down on desk, grinning slyly and cupping her face in his hands as awaited her reply.

She reached between them to guide him in, her eyes falling shut and her body shuddering as he buried himself inside her. "Oh, yes! I whole-heartedly agree."

"Fucking hell, you feel good" He started to move with shallow thrusts, pulling almost all the way out before plunging back in to the hilt.

Moans and cries filled the air. Buffy's body bent in the shape of bow as he lavished her breasts with attention from his mouth. "Oh, God, deeper, harder—love your cock."

"Buffy, Buffy, Buffy, so amazing—"

With every thrust his pubic bone hit her clit and soon she fell over the edge, William following right behind her. He caught himself before collapsing on top of her and caught her now limp body up and into his arms.

"Can you sit here? I'll be back in a second. I just need to get some tissues for us."

He made sure she could sit up before he walked across the room to the table by the loveseat and retrieved the tissue box. After they were clean and dressed they looked at one another and smiled.

"You need to light that candle over there," Buffy said. "It smells like sex in here, and you don't want that."

"Right, good thinking. Do you think you'll make another appointment?" He looked at her with hope.

"I don't know. It depends," she said, as she smiled.

"Depends on what?" He tilted his head and arched his brow.

Buffy walked up to him and put her arms around him, looking up at him smiling like a deviant. "Spike, my dear husband, only if you'll pick up Emma from chess today and not forget the dry cleaning."

He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. "I think I can do that. Did you have fun?"

"I did indeed. I'm glad you hired the new receptionist. She had no idea who I was." She stood on tiptoe and buried her face in his neck, inhaling his scent.

"Yep. Plus, she's old and deaf as a bloody post." He swatted her bottom. "Now, off with you before I decide to defile you again."

The End


End file.
